Deluge
by Helena Lucia
Summary: Hatake Kakashi never cared much for his mentor's habitual equivocation. -Allusions to wasted talent and inherited detachment.-


_** Deluge**_

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_**Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or said characters.**_

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_Hatake Kakashi never cared much for his mentor's habitual equivocation._

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Uzumaki Naruto may have inherited many aspects of his father's appearance, but Kakashi notes that his smile is entirely Kushina, bright and vivacious.

It does not escape his notice that Naruto now moves with the same deliberate elegance as Minato did, all predatory grace and fierce nobility.

Ambiguity runs quick in the child's blood, a duplicity born of necessity and fuelled by deliberate misrepresentation.

This Naruto that Kakashi sees, is barely an evasive shadow of everything that the child should have been. A partial manifestation of Kakashi's guilty avoidance.

Not to say that the boy is a failure, because he has excelled magnificently in spite of himself. But Kakashi has to wonder about the supposed _Child of The Prophecy_. He is a cynic by nature, and the instinct to distrust his own vision is deeply ingrained in him. One would expect no less from the _Yellow Flash's _prodigy student.

Kakashi has to speculate, that if _this_ Naruto, this _shade_ made up of orange and gold, a child born of shadows and clawed into the sunlight by his own darkness, could be the famed _Saviour_, then he will bow his own head with shamed dignity.

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It strikes Kakashi as he observes Naruto, that in contrast, he had never seen Minato-sensei shed tears. In fact the closest that he can recall, was watching the young Hokage blinking his wife's blood from his eyes as his fingers swept through the _Dead Demon Consuming_ seals with barely a thought. _He had known the seals by heart_.

It had given Kakashi pause, because to perform any _jutsu_ so flawlessly, it required repetition, reposition and absolute concentration. Constant practice and balanced regulation of chakra. In fact it required so much practice that suicide jutsus could _never_ be performed with such a level of perfect precision.

Kakashi subdues the train of thought before it can take him any further. Not even Namikaze Minato could have cheated the _Shinigami_.

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The sky is heavy with mist and a chilled breeze. _Strange weather for Konoha._ Kakashi notes as he stands atop the Hokage monument. Further north the clouds condense as a deluge of rain engulfs the forests of Fire Country. He doubts the storm will carry over Konohagakure itself.

"Squad Delta has returned, Sensei." His student's voice cuts through the fog like the brush of lightening. The chakra from the prompt _Body Flicker _settles as Naruto stands before him, hands tucked into the pockets of his newly dyed jacket. It looks dark blue in the waning light but Kakashi can smell blood on the wind.

The boy is soaked, blond hair plastered to his skull as it drips down his clothes and Kakashi surmises that he must have been caught in the northern downpour. He reminds Kakashi of one of his half-drowned _ninken_ pups, however much he doubts that Naruto would appreciate the comparison.

"I sent them to the medics and Headquarters respectively." The boy continues when Kakashi makes no move to respond. "They're waiting for you to debrief them." Naruto doesn't fidget but Kakashi senses his chakra shift. _Ah_. Naruto was no doubt agitated with the disgusting feeling of blood coagulating in his clothes.

"Thank you Naruto." He says, offering his patented eye-smile. "Go clean up and then join Squad Delta in the debriefing room."

A stiff bow and then Naruto is gone. A murmured _"Thank you sensei."_ left hanging with the mist and the remnants of his wild chakra.

And if Kakashi ignores the lingering scent of ink and demonic chakra surrounding Naruto, well then fair is fair.

For everything that Uzumaki Naruto could have been, he is a paradox of righteous hatred, glorious emotion, and a twisted convergence of brilliant, virulent chakra. A breathing statue on the verge of detonating, and tearing everyone in the Shinobi Nations to ribbons.

_And oh, how his youngest student has so many triggers._

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**_Author's Note: Insinuations toward one of my other fanfictions, Sobriquet. Not entirely AU._**


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